[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate
universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any
other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to
other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm
broke.

E-mail me at silverwlngaol.com okay? And
you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net,
s.serafine, or icbw.

Rating of this episode: PG-13
for bad moods and bad jokes…

Author's note: Well!
It's good to be back! And yet, it is a bittersweet moment. This is for sure the
last season of ICBW. It's been an awesome ride, but as I move on to adulthood
(i.e. washing my own laundry and living without the 'rents) I must also move on
to different things, creatively. I've already started making drafts and
outlines for fiction projects that maybe one will be published. Who knows? I'll
try short story, poetry, screen plays… I'm a dabbler. Dabble, dabble. Enjoy the
show, folks.

By the time she reached
Commissioner Wyldon's office, Keladry had been on a train for a ridiculous
amount of time due to freight train accidents on the tracks ahead of them. She
could have gone by bus, but she had no desire to be on a bus again. The trip to
Irontown earlier that year had been more than enough. A plane was no better.
She'd be happy if she never got onto another plane in her life, seeing as it
would forever after remind her of that painfully silent trip across the ocean.

Keladry slumped in the chair,
rubbing her eyes. Years of practiced stoicism and perfect posture amounted to
nothing. The constant jostle of the train hadn't let her sleep. Instead, she
remained in a state in which she was not sure she was even awake. Eyelids
drooping, hair matted on one side from hours of leaning against a window,
Keladry felt as if she were floating. An out-of-body experience, she though
briefly, wondering how she could look down at her feet on the floor, but not feel
them anywhere near the floor.

After a time, Wyldon entered his
office, hands clasped behind his back. The commissioner had already received
the same synopsis that had been given to Flyndon, but he knew there was more
than meets the eye. Besides, Keladry had always been an honest, dutiful
officer. He'd rarely had complaints about her the entire time he had known the
young woman. It was therefore more… vexing… to see her now, so disoriented and
unlike herself.

"Sir," she made to stand and
salute.

"At ease, Mindelan."

Keladry gratefully collapsed back
into the chair. Habit made a comeback, though, and she sat up a little
straighter. However, her eyes continued to appear vacant.

Wyldon frowned. "I know the
basics, officer. I didn't need you to come all the way here to tell me what
everyone else knows," he said. He moved behind his desk and sat down. "So tell
me. What really happened?"

Keladry gazed down at her lap.
"I'm not sure if I—"

"And don't worry about anyone
else. If you, of all sensible people, have a bizarre story to tell, I won't
report it to Internal Affairs." He gave her a confident, assuring smile. "I've
watched you grow up from a wet-behind-the-ears rookie to an indispensable
member of the DJPF. I trust what you have to say." He paused. "And if need be, I
will deal with covering up the scandals. No need to give the public yet another
reason to lose faith in the federal government."

She was slightly impressed of his
assessment of the situation and the accompanying bravery to defend it. Keladry
coughed into her hand. The truth had to come out sooner or later. At least the
commissioner was on her side.

"We ran into a benevolent,
indigenous people. Then we ran into a," Keladry paused to find the right words,
but failed, "not-so-benevolent people. A civilian was seriously injured…
Another k… killed," she finished after some difficulty. "And an officer—" she
stopped. If there ever was a time for her to hand in his resignation for
him, now was it. "Two of our officers have volunteered to stay behind to do
damage control."

"Two?"

She gulped. Officially, only one.
But she might as well say two. "Yes, two."

Wyldon tapped his chin. "And so
you're saying that we really have two of our men covering up the discovery of a
culture in that icy wasteland. Well, Ms. Sarrasri already knows, but I'm sure
she wouldn't mind twisting the details. Her job is on the line, too." He
smirked. "A group of gold-diggers, having been driven out of the Roof of the
World by our expeditionary forces, set up shop in the forbidden Eastern Yamani
mountains."

"Sir?" Keladry forced her eyes to
stay open and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"We can't tell all of Mithros that
there are indigenous people in those mountains. Hundreds of foolhardy
scientists and anthropologists would fall off mountains and get themselves
killed trying to find the place."

"The hostages and the rescue team
have not been under our supervision upon return. What if they've already leaked
information?"

"Well, I suppose we'll have to
persuade them to change their stories, won't we?"

Keladry did not know how to react.
The search team had not seen much, but the pilots of Inness' research team had
seen plenty. She could trust Inness to keep his mouth shut—she doubted he would
have talked to anyone, even their mother, about what had happened. But
what about the rest?

Wyldon sighed. "I will approach
the subject with the DJPF Board of Directors. We need to get this report
straight—you hear me, Mindelan? Because there's a chance someone has already
heard something. And they will ask questions. The current administration just
barely recovered from the Immortals scandal."

"I take it President Conté will
have more than enough on his plate during his re-election campaign?" Keladry
said, a little caustic in voice.

Their private conference eventually
undid Keladry's initial report to Flyndon and replaced it with something closer
to the truth. The damage control in Mithros was ten times as more taxing
psychologically than it must have been back in Enishijirou. By the end, Keladry
wondered if Wyldon would really be able to cover up everything.

She felt guilty. More, she felt
responsible. The lying had not disappeared, only changed form. How could she
let herself imagine things would be so easy?

The final report and witness
hushing lasted three days. Keladry stayed in the Headquarter dorms again,
talking with former hostages via COMscreen. Luckily, every last one of them had
not said a word. On the plane ride home, they had discussed it among themselves
and determined that they would all be locked up in an insane asylum if they
even remotely tried to explain the "magic" they had seen. For their cowardice
and self-denial, Keladry was eternally grateful.

She slept for the rest of her time
in the city. She barely strayed from her room, so she did not visit any of her
old friends. The majority of them had transferred anyway. The only one she had
seen during her brief trips to Commissioner Wyldon's office had been Hakuin
Seastone, who sported a black eye courtesy his fellow trainer, Eda Bell. She'd
greeted him rather indifferently. He took no offense, mistaking her behavior as
that of her pre-mistaken-fugitive days, but she felt a little bad after he had
gone.

No, she for the most part stayed
in her assigned room. Keladry simply didn't have the energy. There was no dull
ache, annoyance, irritation, anger, or melancholy. None of that. There was just
an enormous amount of fatigue.

I'm tired of everything, she
realized. I've given all of myself to everyone because I've never done it
before and I didn't know any better. Now there's nothing left.

She recalled how Cleon had once
spoken to her about respecting how she kept her distance. There wasn't any
distance to speak of any longer, she noted. Was that a good thing or a bad
thing?

Her casual uniform lay rumpled on
the floor. She stared at the wide baby blue stripe and found herself disgusted
with the color. There was only one type of blue that pleased her anymore.

"This is all your fault," she
whispered. But she wasn't mad. Just empty.

"So how's the old man?" Neal
asked.

"Huh?"

"Wyldon. You saw him, right? I was
afraid they were going to send you to talk to some other pompous prick instead
of good ol' Wyldon." He snapped his fingers. "Darn it! I should have asked my
dad to come see you. He wanted to send up some pineapple upside-down cake that
my aunt made. He doesn't care for it much, you see, so—"

"That's nice," Keladry yawned.
Luckily, Neal caught the hint and shut up. She slept in the car the rest of the
way back to their apartments. The movement and sound of the car had a large
effect on Keladry's ability to relax. Perhaps it was simply because Neal was
there with her. No matter the reason, she slept like the dead until they parked
in the garage.

Neal carried her duffel bag for
her with his uninjured arm. She did not protest. Keladry knew she looked
exhausted and a good friend like Neal wouldn't stand to see her carry anything.
Against all attempts to stifle it, she yawned several more times in the
elevator and in the hallway of their floor.

He even entered her password for
her, leading the way into her own apartment. Keladry didn't even make it as far
as the bedroom before dropping onto the couch and kicking her shoes off. Neal
chuckled to himself and went into her bedroom. He brought back her bed comforter
and draped it over her prone body.

"Hey, I'll come back later
tonight. We'll meet up with some other officers for drinks at the pool hall.
Okay?"

"Whatever," she mumbled, her eyes
closed and her breathing already slowed.

The attentive young man leaned
down and brushed a brotherly kiss against her hair before retreating.

Keladry would have slept for
twenty-four hours straight if not for the loud intercom buzzing that woke her
up. She groaned as she sat up, brushing her hair out of her face. She shuffled
to the door, wondering who would interrupt her slumber at—night was it? The sky
outside the window was black. The lights of the surrounding buildings were
already on. She'd slept for at least five hours, then.

"Hello?"

"It's me. Open up."

The door slid open and Neal
stepped inside. He rolled his eyes when he saw his disheveled friend. He was
dressed in a green shirt and a pair of dark gray slacks. His hair was actually
combed back neatly and he smelled like aftershave. "I can't believe you. Come
on, into the shower with you."

He started pushing her gently
through her bedroom and into the bathroom.

"What's the big deal?" she
complained.

"We're going out tonight. That's
what. Now go clean up. I'll pick out something for you to wear."

She snorted. "Out? So where are we
going again, Roald and Lalasa's?"

"Actually, they're out having
dinner with Ms. Sarrasri. Otherwise, we would have gone to see them. By the
way, did you know Lalasa was pregnant?"

On the other side of the bathroom
door, Keladry frowned. She started running the shower and stripping off her
clothes. "No. Really? How long?"

"Just over a couple of months.
Roald's been on Cloud Nine ever since."

"I bet," Keladry replied. "Hey,
Neal, would you mind…?"

He backed away from the door. "No
problem. I'll get your stuff unpacked since you obviously haven't touched it
since you got home."

The idea of Neal going through
Keladry's clothing did not bother her in the slightest. With someone else,
maybe, but Neal was her brother in nearly all respects except name and DNA. She
didn't feel embarrassed at him going through any of her things. With that
burden off her mind, she stepped into the shower and was immediately soothed by
the hot water running down her body. Days of stress and weariness wore away
until there was a perfect feeling of contentment. She leaned against her shower
wall and closed her eyes.

When she was finished, she wrapped
a robe around her body and peered out her bathroom door. Her bedroom was empty.
"Neal?"

"In the kitchen polishing off the
last of your food! Your clothes are on the bed."

Figures. She
tentatively exited her bathroom and surveyed the outfit placed on her bed.
There was a pair of jeans and a pinstriped shirt whose sleeves came down to her
elbows. Shoes were placed at the foot of the bed, a pair of plain white tennis
shoes that had gone nearly unworn since Lalasa had coerced her into buying
them.

She poked her head out from the
bedroom and glared at the older man currently munching on an apple from her
refrigerator. "Those jeans don't fit me too well. Is there something else?"

He shook his head. "No, that's
good. Tight will be good."

"No, it won't! You know my
policy."

"Yeah. Comfortable and completely
unattractive," he retorted. "Come on, just put it on and let's go. I bet
they're wondering what's keeping us so long down at the pool hall."

Keladry went back to her bed and
began to put on her clothes. "Just whom are we meeting, anyway?" she called.
"The Riders? Or some other people I don't know?"

"Oh, you know these people. Don't
worry about that."

Still wondering whom he was
referring to, Keladry exited her bedroom, dressed in the outfit that her best
friend had selected. The jeans were a tad bit snug, but she supposed it
wouldn't bother her the whole night. Neal nodded approvingly and stood at the
door, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. She rolled her eyes at him and
went out.

He still insisted on driving
despite one of his arms being in a sling. Neal assured her that it was no great
difficulty. It didn't especially hurt, just that there was a constant ache
along the muscle and sinew. The doctors in Enishijirou had done an eerily good
job.

Keladry discovered that she rather
liked the pool hall where she had once celebrated her birthday. Even if she
didn't play pool very well, she enjoyed watching. Neal was an avid player,
though only of mediocre skill. He would have great success periodically, but
not enough to win himself any large bets. That he only had one hand free to use
disappointed him. He could only be a spectator that night.

When they entered the
establishment, they immediately ran into Wolset, who invited them over to sit
with him and a few men from his division. His ocean blue eyes seemed to be
laughing, as they always were. Keladry realized that she liked Wolset, if only
because his disposition and his cheery appearance reminded her of Cleon. She
dropped the thought quickly.

Keladry recognized a few of them
from the car theft ring that the DJPF had brought down, others from the SWAT
team. She sat down beside Wolset, who went off on a spiel about a humorous, but
dumb criminal that they had arrested earlier that day. A waitress came by and
delivered two baskets of fries and a few cheeseburgers. Wolset decided that he
wasn't hungry yet and offered his cheeseburger to Keladry.

She'd spent nearly the entire day
traveling or sleeping, so of course she was hungry. Keladry eagerly bit into
the cheeseburger. A sigh escaped her mouth, her lips curling into a slight
smile as she relished the taste. She usually wasn't inclined toward burgers—being
what Neal called a demi-health nut. But food was simply food at this point. She
found herself reaching for the fries as well.

"Hey!" Neal exclaimed from besides
her, suddenly standing up. He reached an arm behind the booth seat that they
were on and shook the hand of a new arrival. Keladry was loath to put down the
cheeseburger, but she did anyway and wiped her mouth and hands. She turned to
see what had gotten her friend in such a happy mood.

The SWAT team leader nodded his
head politely toward Keladry. "Hey, Mindelan."

Neal snorted. "Please, call her
Kel. We're all off duty here." He pointed across him. "Have a seat!"

Keladry inwardly scolded herself.
She should have known that he would be there if half of his team was there.
Since their last awkward encounters, they had come to an unspoken understanding
that she really cared about Joren and saw Ulliver as a very nice friend. There
was never animosity between them for that "rejection" but a slight tension
always hung in the air whenever they were in the same room together.

Wolset grinned. "Hey, buddy! Yeah,
come sit down with us. Did you see Tim by the door? He was looking for you
earlier."

"Yeah, I saw him," Ulliver
confirmed, taking a seat across from Keladry and Neal. He didn't look her in
the eye. "Anyway, what's going on? Injured again, Neal?"

A sly smile spread across Neal's features, "Flyndon
complains that my insurance policy premium costs the DJPF more than the amount
of money you could rake in selling all the confiscated drugs in the locker."

Keladry ate a couple of fries. "It
wouldn't surprise me if it was all just a conspiracy for you to meet every
single nurse in Tusaine's General Hospital."

"And if it was?" Neal wiggled his
eyebrows suggestively. She shoved him in the shoulder, being careful not to
jostle his arm sling. He turned his attention back to Ulliver. "So, Ulliver,
what's going on? Job, friends, otherwise?" he asked, emphasizing the
last word. Keladry frowned suspiciously.

"Nothing great. I've just been so
busy doing all these chores and stuff. You know?" Ulliver chuckled. He
scratched his head. His hair was just a tiny bit longer, but still mostly flat
against his head. Keladry was bothered to know that he resembled a little more
like Faleron in the soft yellow light of the pool hall.

Wolset took a sip of water. "Hey,
Linden, are you coming with me to the club tonight? I heard Gina is going to be
there."

"Um, not tonight, Wolsie. I feel
like doing something a little less active than dancing," Ulliver replied. His
eyes twinkled.

Their exchange struck a chord
inside of her. Keladry took a bite of her cheeseburger to have an excuse not to
talk. They reminded her of Cleon and Faleron. Good friends—one cheery, the
other serious. They even resembled her two absent comrades to an extent. She
had not allowed herself to think about them so much since coming home, but now
that she did, Keladry was overwhelmed with a longing to see their smiling
faces.

"Kel? Are you okay?"

She looked up. She swallowed her
food and nodded. "Yes, fine. Sorry. Must have spaced out."

Ulliver sat back, appearing
slightly suspicious. "Oh."

Neal cleared his throat. "Hey,
Ulliver! You said you didn't want to do something so 'active,' right? Want to
come to miniature golf with Kel and me?"

"Miniature golf? You didn't tell
me we were going to do that," Keladry interjected.

"Come on, it'll be fun," Neal
pleaded. He reached past her for a handful of fries. "Besides, you're not doing
anything. What, were you going to go home and rearrange your sock drawer for
the umpteenth time?"

She blushed furiously. "No. I
could have thought to go home and… watch the game."

Honestly, she had no idea what
game would be on the Holoscreen, but there had to have been at least one
sports activity being televised across Mithros that night. Football,
basketball, hockey… she would have sat down and watched any of them, equally
indifferent.

He saw through her excuses and
cajoled her into saying yes to his proposal. Keladry glared at him and warned
him never to make plans without her permission ever again. With hand over heart
and a serious expression on his face, he pledged it very loudly to half the
room.

"You get weirder and weirder each
day," she remarked. ­­Like you meant to make up for Cleon's absence. She
sighed.

"Well, Ulliver, what do you say?
You in?"

"Why not?" Ulliver responded
amiably. She couldn't tell if he was sincere.

After half an hour of chatting
with Wolset and other off-duty officers, Keladry, Neal, and Ulliver left the
pool hall and headed toward their cars. When they reached the middle of the
parking lot, Neal cursed under his breath and glanced at his wrist pager.

He gave them an apologetic look.
"I got a message from Dom. He's got a flat tire out by the edge of town, needs
me to come pick him up with a spare."

Keladry narrowed her eyes. "Oh
really?"

"That sucks," Ulliver said. He and
Dom were really good friends. They very frequently hung out together in the
coffee room at the DJPF station. He pointed over his shoulder at his car. "I've
got a spare. I could go help him out."

Neal looked up quickly. "No,
that's alright. I've got a spare. And he's practically family, anyway." He
sighed and rested his free hand on Keladry's arm. "You two go ahead to the mini
golf course. I'll just see you back at home."

Keladry let her eyes slowly move
down from his face to his injured arm. "Are you sure you'll be able to manage,
Neal? What with the arm and all…"

"Of course!" He shrugged. "I'm a
tough guy, remember, Tough Stuff?"

"Are you sure?" Ulliver asked,
genuinely concerned.

"Oh, yeah. I'm great," Neal
assured them. He started to back away toward the car that he and Keladry had
driven in.

His best friend glared at him. She
turned to Ulliver. "Would you excuse me for just a minute?"

She followed Neal to his car and
would have smacked him very hard on the back of the head if she didn't know
that Ulliver was watching. Neal secretly thanked his lucky stars for this and
leaned against his car door. Keladry folded her arms across her chest, smiling
rather maliciously at him.

Keladry shook her head. "If I
didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to set me up on a date with
Ulliver."

Neal pouted. "Why not?"

She stared at him in disbelief.
"Why not? Neal! You…" She quieted her voice and tried not to blush. "You know…
Joren—"

"He's gone."

It felt like betrayal. Keladry
flinched and averted her gaze. Something inside her chest constricted, and she
took a deep breath. "But… but it's just too soon Neal. You can't
possibly know how long and how much I…"

"But I do know," he whispered.
Without another moment's hesitation, he drew her into a gentle embrace and ran
his hand comfortingly down her back. "I know. He told me."

She pulled away from him and
forced him to look her in the eye. "What?"

Neal smiled weakly. "When we were
partnered up on that rescue mission, we got over our differences and really… talked.
Seemed like something straight out of the Twilight Zone—him actually talking to
me about stuff I didn't even know he was capable of feeling." He chuckled. "It
was all you, Kel. All your fault."

"Then can't you see?" she pleaded.
"I can't do this! Not now!"

A shadow seemed to pass over his
features. He nodded once. "But you can. And you will. That's what he asked me
to make sure of."

It wasn't simply betrayal. It was
murder.

"…He did what?"

Neal hissed as if in pain. He ran
his free hand through his wavy brown hair nervously and shrugged. "Well… to
tell you the truth…"

"When did he tell you to do this?"
she demanded, her voice rising a little dangerously.

"When he left."

She squinted her eyes and shook
her head. "How could he? He left in the middle of the night. No one saw him
leave." Her expression became crestfallen with disbelief. "You… you did? How…?"

Her friend's gaze fell on the
ground. "He woke me up and asked me to drive him someplace. I can't say where.
I don't even remember where. But I drove him the whole damn way there. And I
saw him leave."

"Why would he ask you and not me?"

It was noose on her ceiling fan.
It was a guillotine on her pillow.

Neal still refused to look her in
the eye. "Look, he made me promise to make sure someone, well, normal
would only enter the picture. I asked how long I should wait. He said as soon
as possible. I think, Kel, really—I think he didn't want you to be in pain any
longer than necessary." He glanced over his shoulder at Ulliver. "You'd better
go. He's been waiting."

Keladry glared at him. She
couldn't even put into words all the things she was feeling. "Alright. I'll
go." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "But I'm not doing this for you and I am
most certainly…" she paused to take a deep breath and fight back tears, "I am
most certainly not doing this for him. I'm doing this for me."

"If that's what you want," he
whispered.

"I hate you both," she lied, but
cruelly enjoyed the reaction it brought from him. She hated herself so much
more at that moment for hurting him with those words, but she turned away
before it was too much.

Arsenic in the wine. Swimming with
the fishes with cement around her ankles.

A firing squad.

She took another deep breath and
went back to Ulliver, who frowned.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No! No, of course not. Come on,
let's go golfing, shall we?" She smiled at him and walked around to the
passenger side of the car.

And so it started. They both
played a humiliating game of miniature golf, the score card looking like five
year olds had been at play. But Keladry had unwittingly enjoyed herself after
letting down her invisible barriers so Ulliver could talk to her like a normal
person. The following weeks were only a pleasant extension of the first night
after that.

At first, Ulliver was very
reluctant to approach Keladry. She'd been forced to be the one asking him out.
Eventually, he began to warm up to the idea that she was actually interested in
him and started to relax. With Neal's nosy interference, they managed to run
into each other much more frequently. Sometimes, they didn't even bother with
an excuse to seek the other out.

Three weeks had passed before
Keladry woke up one morning with a name upon her lips.

"Liam."

She sat up quickly and frowned.
Why had she just thought of him? And not…

Oh. Wait. She
pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed. She knew exactly why she had
thought of her ex-boyfriend. She'd been starting to feel ridiculously giddy at
times, just like she had been when she had started to date Liam. It had been
naïve, her happiness, one full of so much hope and faith in the future that she
had been blind to most everything else.

But was that the case here? No.
Keladry knew better now. She was realistic. And that wasn't Liam's fault alone.
Joren had contributed more to that experience than she ever cared to
acknowledge. It was hard, sometimes. Thinking of either of them. Liam, she
thought she had made her peace with. But seeing him ignore her in Enishijirou
had bothered her terribly. Joren was one with whom she knew she would always
feel like a piece of her had been ripped out and lost forever.

Neal was right, though. She had to
move on. It frightened her, sometimes, to realize at the end of the day that
she had not thought of Joren once. It scared her to see Ulliver's dark haired
head and to think that Liam was standing there instead.

She was making progress, though.
She was starting a healthy relationship. She was seeing a very decent, very normal
guy. Dom had known Ulliver for years, so she had gone to him for the secret
scoop on Ulliver's history. For the most part, uneventful. Normal. Not like
Liam. Not like Joren. No baggage… well, only the normal baggage everyone else
carried around. Dead relatives (grandparents, usually), traumatic childhood
experience concerning something or other with a baby blanket… Nothing at all
like being shot by Alanna Olau Trebond or losing your parents in a burning
house.

They had been more or less seeing
each other for three weeks and for the first time, Keladry felt that nothing
could possibly go wrong.

Keladry got up and checked her
answering machine for any messages. There was only one from her sister Oranie,
who had just wanted to say hi. Conal's funeral had been a couple of weeks ago.
When she had spent the weekend back in Irontown, she was surrounded by dozens
of weeping relatives—some she had never even met before.

Inness had gotten a little better.
He still had nightmares of being in the fog back in the valley, surrounded by
men fighting but not being able to see or escape them. But he had started to go
back to the University, though he no longer worked in anthropology. Last she
had heard, he had taken up music. He and Tavin started to play guitars
together.

At least some siblings
in this family got a bonding experience out of this mess.

Still clad in what she had worn to
bed, Keladry went to her kitchen and made herself a bowl of cereal. She sat
down at the table. With her chin propped up on the heel of her hand, she
recalled a funny scene from earlier that week.

She raised one eyebrow
questioningly. "You know, that look reminds me very much of Neal when he's
about to do something very, very stupid."

The major laughed, leaning
back in his chair. He scratched his forehead and shrugged. Then he sprang up from
his chair and started rummaging through her cupboards. "Better you than me. Get
over here. You're going to learn how to make pancakes—from scratch, might I
add."

Keladry rolled her eyes and
got up, hands on her hips as she peered over his shoulder at the stirring bowl
and spoon that he had found with her pots. She frowned. "I didn't even know I
owned one of those."

"How could you not know?"
he asked, snorting.

"Two words," Keladry
explained. "Lalasa Jasson."

He grinned. "Hey, could you
get me a couple of eggs? I'll teach you how to crack them one-handed."

She stared at him, a little
surprised. "I had no idea."

Ulliver turned to glance at
her. "What?"

"How is it that every
bachelor I know has proven to me that he's a closet gourmet chef?"

"Closet gourmet chef?"

"Yeah," she said,
retrieving the eggs from the refrigerator. "As in, the dirty little secrets you
keep in your closets—in this case, a great love and talent for cooking."

"You're weird," he said,
peering at her intently as if she were a completely new species.

"Just as weird as you," she
countered, feeling a little self-conscious.

He laughed. "What can I
say? Men in professional jobs spend five years ordering pizza for breakfast
before deciding that they would actually like to eat what the chefs on the
cooking channel make. Bachelors are big fans of the cooking channel. Seriously.
We watch it when we don't have the money to buy food just so we can
pretend to be eating."

"Weird," she replied. She
plopped the eggs into his waiting hands and watched as he cracked an egg into
the bowl. She gave a low whistle. "Impressive. That's some technique you have
there."

"All in the wrist." He
grinned cockily at her. He placed the other egg in her hand. "Here, hold your
fingers like this. Tap it firmly against the side of the bowl, move your
fingers so they immediately pull the two halves of the shell away from each
other—there ya go, hold them like that." He made a little dipping movement with
his hand. "And do this to get all the yolk inside to fall neatly out. If you
let it dribble, it's going to make a mess."

"I had no idea there
required so much thought into cracking a single egg."

He guided her hand over the
bowl and gave her a mockingly serious look. "Wax on, wax off."

The pancakes actually
tasted very good. Ulliver had promised to show her his famous peanut butter and
chocolate chip pancakes the next day. Those had been even better.

Keladry finished her breakfast and
put the bowl in the sink. She mulled over the happy memory in her mind as she
ambled toward her closet. These would be her last moments of peace before she
had to head out for work. There had been a rise in gang activity that had upped
the amount of DJPF on patrol. It didn't surprise her in the least. Tusaine was
a large city with a lot of problems, even with the collapse of its oldest
criminal organization.

She frowned when she could not
find the Hyperion bands. Reaching a hand into the back corner, she gave a
slight gasp when her hand closed around something she had not expected.

"What is this?"

A motorcycle helmet tumbled onto
her lap. Keladry stared at it as if she had never seen it before. She had not
ridden her own motorcycle since she'd returned from the Yamanis. Just looking
at it made her remember. And as the memories invaded her head, she wished that
she could not remember.

She cradled the helmet to her
body. There was no reason she shouldn't ride anymore. The vehicle was
functional. It was practical. Why shouldn't she?

"I will," she said firmly,
standing up.

But as she continued to dress, she
could not expel the dread that had begun to weigh her chest cavity down, almost
like a heart of lead. She glanced at the helmet on her bed. If she reached out,
she could still feel his warm body, cased in that form fitting black and red
uniform. Her thighs, pressed tight against his as her arms wrapped around his
waist. She could rest her face against his back, feeling the heat of his body
from his shoulder blades. The heat…

Those had always been the best of
times. Whether he'd been mad at her, or overcome with depression, or even in
the midst of a chase—it had felt like an elaborate scheme to have her there
with him, to let him give her this exhilaration. The wind in her hair always
brought the feeling back. That's all it took. The wind.

She didn't touch the helmet for
the rest of the morning. Blue eyes seemed to follow her everywhere she went.
Keladry resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. No one was there. Her
apartment was empty, save for her and her yearning thoughts.

"Damn you," she muttered.

The bullet blew off chips of
concrete from the building corner. She pulled back, shaking the shock off and
squeezing her gun handle. Keladry took a deep breath and risked a look around
the edge, firing of three rounds in quick succession before violently yanking
herself back.

"Kel!" her communication link on
her wrist pager flashed red. She touched the button to signal she heard him.

"He's headed straight for you,"
she said, unperturbed.

"Well, keep him off!" Wolset
yelled. "My hands are full with his stupid friends!"

Wolset had been assigned as one of
her partners until Neal was cleared for the field again. He'd been healing just
fine, but Flyndon was forcing him to serve a couple of months extra inside the
station. As it was, Keladry hadn't spoken to Neal as much as she used to.
Actually, she spoke to him plenty, but not about certain things—or
people…namely, Joren. Thus, their friendship had become somewhat stagnant and
strained.

She sprang up from the spot and
sprinted behind a car. Loud gunshots echoed in her ears. Small puffs of dust
rose up at her heels as she dived behind her new cover. Looking back, she let
out an inaudible sigh of relief.

Keladry peered through the car's
windows.

There you are, you little…

She crawled on her belly underneath the row of trucks
parked in front of the car dealership, glad for the monstrous size of the
vehicles. When she stole another glance at the man she'd been pursuing, he was
catching his breath behind an overturned table. The small restaurant he'd taken
shelter in front of was empty, its patrons having fled at the first sign of
gunfire.

Now just stay still, she
thought at the man. She took aim and fired.

The man ducked, the bullet just
missing his shoulder. Keladry instant wished she'd had Cleon's uncanny aim.
Alas, she was without such skill, and cursed as the man bolted. She observed
that he was headed toward the parking garage where she knew Wolset and another
officer were facing off in an old-fashioned shoot out with her suspect's
buddies.

"Whether you like it or not, he's
coming your way!" she shouted into her communicator.

"Gee, thanks a lot!" Wolset
replied. There were more gunshot noises in the background. She hoped that he
wouldn't get injured. She'd lost the company of three of her partners already
and wasn't looking to get paired to another one so quickly.

Keladry ran after the suspect,
hoping no civilians would show up and get caught in the crossfire. The only
noise she now heard was her heavy footsteps and pounding heart. The traffic
sounds of Tusaine, the million urban nuances that usually distracted her, faded
away until all focus was on the man running from the law.

Not for long.

An hour later, she leaned against
the ambulance, watching the man she had been chasing being loaded onto a
gurney. Wolset and another officer lay exhausted on the hood of their squad
car, mumbling to each other about having to actually work on a perfectly
good Friday.

She shook her head ruefully,
pushing off from the emergency vehicle and heading toward the two men. They had
received the tougher part of the job; she wouldn't deny it. But these sorts of
assignments should have been routine for the First Class officers. Wolset
looked up at her accusingly when she was near enough.

"We were at a standoff with five
hooligans and you're the only one whose man gets shot in the kneecaps."

"I never said I was a master
marksman. And he did resist arrest by running," she replied coolly. "Besides,
it was one shot in the leg. You make it sound like I tortured him."

He stared at her. Though it
sounded innocuous enough, something about her tone bothered him. He experienced
what felt like a wave of ice passing through his body. It was inhuman how much
her attitude had changed from word to word.

Ignoring his partner's banter, he
sat up. He'd never gotten to know Keladry that well. But from all the
impressions he'd ever had from her, maybe this wasn't out of character after
all. He was almost tempted to ask Ulliver—he seemed to be spending a lot of
time together with her. No. Ulliver might misconstrue the question. Neal would
offer better insight.

Why did it bother him so much?

Keladry wiped the moisture from
her brow and exhaled deeply.

"Hey, would you mind filing the
report? As soon as we get back to the station, I was going to wash up and meet
Ulliver in the break room for a really late lunch—or early dinner," she added
as an afterthought.

He agreed. "No problem. Tell
Linden I said hi."

Earlier traces of her unbecoming
attitude were gone, replaced by the Keladry he had met months before. Maybe he
was only imagining things. While growing up, his mother had always warned him
about having a hyperactive imagination. Although he had seen no evidence of
that in the last few years, he kept it in mind as he continued to consider his
temporary partner.

As soon as she left, Wolset rolled
off the hood of the car and dived through the window. Half his weight balancing
on the door of the car, he grabbed the phone. While he dialed, his partner
turned on his side and knocked on the windshield.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Dom. I need Neal
Queenscove's number. Now."

Keladry did regret having to shoot
the suspect. But to be honest, she had not been in the mood to deal with him in
the way she usually would. It felt like that day outside of Mithran United with
the purse snatcher. She'd snapped.

However, she felt rather calm
right then—not snapped. Her pulse had resumed its normal pace, the adrenalin
long gone from her veins. It was almost as if she hadn't done anything at all
that day. Keladry sighed and leaned back in her chair. Her hair, still wet from
the locker room shower, strayed into her face. She irritably pushed it away.
Keladry had been meaning to get a haircut for quite some time. She could almost
tie it back in a ponytail if she wanted to.

"Hey," a masculine voice greeted
her from behind. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"Hi. How was your day?"

Ulliver plopped into the seat
across from her and immediately stretched his arms over his head. "Hostage
situation on the north side, some lunatic in a gasoline station."

"Oh?"

"He had a blowtorch, too."

"Ouch," she pretended to cringe.
"What a delightful combo, huh?"

He grinned. "Absolutely charming."

She knew that he was referring to
their subject of conversation, but Keladry couldn't help but blush a little and
turn her face away so as to hide it. The way he looked at her made her feel as
if he'd been saying it about her. Maybe he had meant it that way. She couldn't
tell. It still made her smile.

"How was your morning?"

Keladry shrugged. "Same old, same old."

"Knowing you, that probably means
you prevented the hostile takeover of a ambitious arch villain who appeared out
of nowhere," he sarcastically replied. He chuckled. The young major glanced at
his watch. "We don't really have time to go anywhere before someone or other
calls us back to work. Do you want to just hide out in Dom's computer lab for a
while?"

Alone? "And
where's Dom?"

"He just paged me a few minutes
ago and asked if he could borrow my motorcycle. Go figure."

Had she been drinking or chewing
anything, she most certainly would have choked. "M-motorcycle?"

Ulliver, to his credit, only
blinked ingenuously. "Um, yeah. Wolsie's brother sold it to me after the New
Year."

"What about your car?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I borrow
that one from one of my guys on the team. He doesn't drive unless he has to.
Lazy is as lazy does, apparently."

She digested the information very
uneasily. While she had lapsed into a contemplative silence, Ulliver took it as
a cue to pilfer food from the break room refrigerator. He could only find a
couple of soda cans, so he quickly traveled to the next room where an on site
vendor was always delivering club sandwiches and other assortments of Saran
wrapped lunches to DJPF officers too busy to go out for lunch.

Arms full of drinks, salad
containers, two sandwiches, and a bag of chips, he met her in the hallway. They
chatted companionably as they went up the elevator. Keladry clasped her hands
behind her back, mildly amused at the spectacle Ulliver had made himself out to
be.

"Here, let me hold some of that
before you drop it."

"No, no! I got it. If you shift
any of these things, the rest will all go tumbling down—trust me."

She almost chuckled, but instead
hid the impulse behind a smile. He saw her do it anyway and felt greatly
rewarded. The earlier revelation about his motorcycle seemed to have passed her
by more quickly than she'd anticipated. If seeing her own helmet that morning
had bothered her so much, why hadn't hearing about Ulliver's motorcycle done
the same?

The door to Dom's computer lab was
unlocked. Luckily for them, no other computer technicians were using the small
room either. Keladry briefly recalled the first time she had been inside the
place, reciting her identification to Dom upon her transfer to Tusaine. He'd
been very friendly to all of them. And—most surprising of all—Joren had
responded with almost equal congeniality (for his standards, anyway).

Enough of that, she told
herself.

Ulliver had set down the food on
Dom's desk and was setting up the computer screen to transmit Holoscreen
programming. Keladry looked around for a second chair but was slightly worried
when there was none. Ulliver turned around and noticed her problem.

"You can have the chair. I was
going to stretch out on the floor anyway."

"Why me? You have the chair.
You're the one who almost went up in flames today."

He snorted. "Not even close. Here,
you sit down in his chair and I'll just sit my big butt here by the wall."

Keladry shook her head and
rebelliously did as he just suggested. Ulliver eyed her critically before
picking up their food again and settling down on the floor beside her. He
divided up the spoils, placing a sandwich and the salad container on her lap.
Then he sighed in contentment as he stretched out his legs and crossed one
ankle over another. The chair was pushed off to the side, and the two DJPF
officers watched the screen of Dom's computer from the floor. They began to eat
without any more argument.

Finally, she rolled her eyes and
set down her soda. Keeping her eyes directed at the screen, pretending to be
partially absorbed in the sitcom, she spoke.

"This is ridiculous. We're both
too stubborn. One of us could have at least had the chair."

He finished chewing the bite of
sandwich he had taken and swallowed. "Does my stubbornness annoy you?"

"Of course not."

"Glad to hear it." He winked at
her. "I was going to pick you up and put you in the chair anyway."

Keladry's eyes widened as she
turned to face him. "Wha—"

His lips on hers immediately
silenced her. It was their first kiss. Warmth seemed to spread from her lips to
her face… permeating her body and making the little hairs on the back of her
neck stand on end. They'd respected each other's personal space to the point of
being prudish for the last three weeks. Though she'd made it clear to him long
before that she cared about Joren, she had not mentioned him once to Ulliver
upon her return. The blond man's continued absence sent the message quite
clearly to the major that if Joren hadn't come back after so long, he was
probably not going to come back at all.

And because of this, Ulliver had
probably waited. What was a proper grieving time? Keladry had never dated, so
she never knew how long to wait before starting another relationship. It wasn't
as if her anti-climactic break up with Liam had required a recovery period.
That had been a cruel farce as far as she was concerned.

So how… how did Ulliver know she
was ready? Was she ready?

As if sensing her thoughts, he
pulled away first, with a shy smile on his lips. Keladry was so accustomed to
seeing Ulliver be sarcastically flirtatious or mildly serious that this bashful
expression made her giggle. She caught herself and turned away before he could
see her mirth.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," she replied, emitting a
small bubble of laughter rise up anyhow.

Ulliver let out a faux aggravated
groan and put his arm around her shoulders. Keladry tensed at his sudden
nearness; it caused her even more anxiety than their kiss. He didn't seem to
notice, but rested his head against hers. After a few minutes, she began to
relax and lean back.

"You're hair's still wet, you
jerk," he jokingly told her as he lifted his head up and tried to sweep all her
hair over her opposite shoulder. "See? My wet shoulder is all your fault."

Keladry rolled her eyes and
elbowed him hard in the ribs, much like she would have if Neal had made the
remark. Ulliver chuckled against her ear, eliciting more goosebumps to appear
on her flesh. He pressed a very firm kiss to the top of her head, nearly
toppling the two of them over by how much he was leaning against her. She
swatted at him again, but made sure that he saw her pleased expression.

In the back of her mind, she knew
that—somewhere—blue eyes were watching her. Judging her. Reminding her of all
the things that she'd been through with him, all her emotional breakdowns and
epiphanies, all her exaltations and sacrifices. But that was in the past, she
told herself. He was gone. In body, anyway. His memory still haunted her. A
ghost in her shadow. Throwing caution to the wind, Keladry defiantly snuggled
closer to the man beside her.

Leave me alone.

If you ever loved me—

Go away. Because I still
love you. Go away or else I won't love you anymore.

That's a promise.

Author: stretching like a cat
well, that felt good. Writing that episode was like waking up in the morning
after a long night and just… gettin the kinks out, ya know? I've decided to
permanently end the other fanfic I was working on. I might take bids from Rival
Schools fans to anyone who wants the plot line and make it their own. Honestly,
I have to finish ICBW and start building up a original fiction portfolio to
take to publishers.

Don't worry. That won't be for a
while yet. You know how long it takes me to write these darned things. The
season won't be over for a bit.

Thank you for all your support!
Especially to those who've been with me since the beginning (egads… four years
ago, almost…). I feel like I know you, even if we've never spoken. Seeing the
same reviewer names over and over—it feel's like seeing old friends.
Refreshing.

Until next time

Ja ne

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.